9

The twins were indeed in the V lounge, though they didn’t seem to be too broken up about having had to wait for John. The rather lovely barmaid, a vampire female, made sure the handsome young hybrids weren’t bored. Just like their father Amaury, Benjamin and Damian were dark-haired and blue-eyed, with broad shoulders and an abundance of charm. It was easy to tell them apart, even though they were identical twins. They wore their hair differently, Benjamin preferring a shorter, more cropped style, while Damian’s hair grew over his ears and hugged his nape, though it was not as long as his father’s. In temperament though they were quite similar.

John actually liked the two hybrids. They were intelligent and easy to get along with. More than that, they were fun to be around. They had great taste in music, a dry sense of humor, and weren’t easily offended. Both loved fast cars and drove Porsches, the same model their father drove. And while they clearly adored their parents, they were the kind of kids who were self-contained, realizing that their parents were also a couple that needed their own space. Because of that they’d recently moved out of their parents’ penthouse in the Tenderloin district, a rather seedy neighborhood in central San Francisco, and into another unit in the same building, which Amaury owned.

“Hey, John,” Damian called out to him. “Want a drink before we head out?”

Having had plenty of blood earlier when the lounge had been empty, John shook his head. “I’m good. Drink up.”

Benjamin downed the last inch of his glass, then wiped a drop of blood from his chin. Although hybrids drank blood—they had to if they wanted to maintain their vampire strength—they could also eat human food. Benjamin and Damian consumed plenty of both and had the physical strength to prove it.

Damian tossed the barmaid a charming grin and a promising wink, then placed his empty glass back on the counter. “See you later, babe. Gotta save the world.”

She giggled and blew him an air kiss.

John refrained from rolling his eyes and waited for the twins to join him.

“Where to?” Damian asked and gave John a pat on the back as if they were buddies.

“You tell me. You’re the one who wants to save the world,” John shot back.

Benjamin slapped his brother over the head from behind and said, “Doofus!”

Instead of being insulted, Damian chuckled. “You would have said the same to her had I not been faster.”

“Good thing you’ve always been a bit faster than me. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of you making an ass of yourself.”

“Shall we, gentlemen?” John interrupted and pointed to the door.

Both Benjamin and Damian made exaggerated curtsies as if they’d rehearsed it, then laughed at each other when they realized they’d both thought of the same comeback.

“Seriously, John,” Damian said as he and his brother followed him to the elevators. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Yeah, what can we help you with?” Benjamin added.

“Help?” He doubted that either of the two jokers could help him with what he had to do first. “You can get in your cars and follow me. I’ve got a quick visit to make.”

“Great, who are we visiting?” Damian asked.

The elevator doors opened and John stepped in, the two hybrids on his heels. “You aren’t visiting anyone. The two of you will stay in your cars and wait for me. It’ll only take two minutes. Got that?”

“Yes, sir!” they said in unison.

Well, at least they’d learned to follow orders. It was a start.

Minutes later, John sat behind the steering wheel of his Mercedes and shot out of Scanguards’ underground garage, two black Porsche Carreras following him. He took the most direct route to Lower Pacific Heights, not wanting to drag out the inevitable. Sure, he could have made a phone call instead, but there was still the matter of his jacket. He’d lent it to Savannah and forgotten it at her place the night before. It was the only reason he was driving to see her in person.

And not because he wanted to see her one more time.

Yeah, not even he believed that. He couldn’t care less about the jacket. In fact, it didn’t even make the top ten when it came to his favorite pieces of clothing. If he lost it during a battle, he would certainly not go back for it. Yet, he was using his jacket as a convenient excuse to see Savannah. How pathetic! He should know better. Not only would she be disappointed and angry once he told her the news that Scanguards wasn’t going to help her find Buffy, he was torturing himself by being anywhere near her. Yeah, he could admit at least that to himself. He had been thinking about inhaling her scent again ever since he’d said goodnight to her less than twenty-four hours earlier.

But nothing would come of it. Because he couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow himself to give into the need that had suddenly surfaced, the need to connect with a woman, not just for carnal pleasures, but to have another being touch his heart, just so he knew that he still had one. That it was still beating. That it hadn’t died with Nicolette four years earlier. But to allow another woman in would mean to betray Nicolette, to betray her love. A love he’d vowed would last forever.

Yet here he was, bringing the car to a stop in front of Savannah’s condo and turning off the engine. He sat there in silence. He didn’t need the jacket, could just as easily pull his cell phone from his pocket and dial her number, tell her over the phone—in a businesslike, detached manner—that Scanguards had decided not to take her case. After all, he’d warned her about it. Told her in advance that Scanguards didn’t take every case it was offered—though he’d lied about why. There was no evidence of vampire involvement in the children’s disappearances. With each additional police report he’d read, his conviction about it had strengthened. And though he could have lied to Samson and Gabriel, could have pretended that there was some evidence that pointed to vampires, he knew it wasn’t right. He couldn’t even blame his bosses for their decision. In their shoes, he would have made the same choice.

And now it was his job to be the bearer of bad news.

He looked at the phone in his hand, then at the door handle. His heart beat like a jackhammer, and he could hear his blood rushing through his veins, the sound thundering in his ears like a storm overhead.

Decision time.

~ ~ ~

Savannah shot up from the couch. Had she nodded off? It wouldn’t surprise her. After all, she’d barely slept the night before, and during the day she’d criss-crossed the city, visiting every spot she’d ever taken Buffy to. She knew it had been a long shot, but simply sitting around, doing nothing, waiting impotently, was worse.

There it was again, the sound that had woken her: the doorbell. She raced to the intercom. “Yes?”

“It’s John Grant.”

She buzzed him in and ripped the door open, watching him ascend the stairs to her floor. She couldn’t see his face—the light bulb must have burned out after she’d returned home. When he reached the landing and the light from the hallway illuminated his face, she knew the news he was bringing wasn’t good.

“No,” she murmured to herself. “Buffy? Did you—”

He reached for her hand and stopped her with a quick shake of his head. “No news about Buffy,” he said.

Her heart calmed by a fraction. But the solemn look on his face continued to worry her. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

He shut the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

She hated those words, because rarely did they mean good news. With a shaking hand she motioned to the living room and followed him. He didn’t sit down, but turned to face her, meeting her gaze. He shifted, visibly uncomfortable.

“When you came to see me in my office yesterday, I mentioned to you that Scanguards doesn’t take on every case that’s presented to them,” he started.

Her breath caught in her throat like a fat Santa Claus in a too-tight chimney.

John dropped his gaze to his shoes. “I’m sorry. But we can’t help you.”

She shook her head. Disbelief collided with the real fear that now she would never see her daughter again. “No. No. Please, don’t say that.”

She didn’t recognize her own voice. High-pitched, pleading, borderline hysterical. Yes, she was all that. Because she was a mother, a mother who feared for her daughter. A lioness who was prepared to do anything to get her cub back.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Rice, I wish there was something I could do. But the decision has been made.”

She shook her head, took a step closer to him. “Please, I’ll pay more. Double of what you normally charge. I have money, you can check. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”

“It’s not the money. It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it about? Please, tell me. What can I do to make you help me find my daughter? Please, you’re my only hope!” She felt tears prick behind her eyes, but pushed them back. “The police haven’t been able to find any of the other children, and they’ve been missing longer than Buffy. You know they can’t help me. But I know you can.” She didn’t know where that confidence came from, but her instincts told her he would find her. If only he agreed to help her.

“You can’t know that. There’s no guarantee. Even if I could take the case. But I can’t. My hands are tied.”

There was compassion in his words, even though he stuck to his refusal. She’d seen that compassion before, when he’d first asked her about Buffy. Just like she’d seen something else that night. Something she would exploit now. For Buffy.

“If it’s not money you want, then something else.” She gripped his hand. “Anything you want.” She locked eyes with him and moved closer, bringing her body to within inches of his much bigger one. “I’ll give you anything if you help me. Anything.”

There was a flicker in his eyes, almost like a flame igniting. She hadn’t misjudged him the night before. Hadn’t misjudged the stolen looks he’d cast her way. The looks of a man who wanted something. Wanted her—or at least her body.

Yet, he didn’t react now. He stood as if frozen in place, his eyes the only part of him that seemed to be alive. But she wouldn’t give up, not when she’d just discovered his weak point.

“I’ll sleep with you as often as you want, however you want it. You can demand anything from me, no matter what it is, I’ll do it. I’ll fulfill all your fantasies without protest.” She took his hand and guided it to her breast, making him cup one globe. His eyes seemed to shimmer, while his lips parted. “I saw how you looked at me last night. Undress me if you want to. Touch me. I know you want to.” She grabbed his other hand and laid it on her other breast. Beneath his palms, though they were motionless, she could feel herself react. Her nipples were hardening, though she didn’t understand why. This wasn’t about her pleasure. This was about a deal she would make with him. Her body in exchange for his help.

“Ms. Rice,” he ground out, his lips barely moving. “Don’t—”

“Savannah,” she coached and laid her hands over his, squeezing, so he was forced to squeeze her boobs. “Please, you can have all this. You can have me. Doing whatever you command. I’ll make sure you’ll enjoy it. I promise. You can fuck me now.” She lowered her hand to his crotch. Hardness greeted her there. He wasn’t as unaffected as his rigid stance suggested. “Or I can suck you. Would you rather have me do that? Do you want me on my knees, your cock in my mouth?” She didn’t care what she had to do to make him help her. She had no pride left. Her only thought was her daughter.

His hands on her breasts were suddenly gone. Before she could say or do anything else, John’s hands were framing her face, and his mouth was crushing her lips with a kiss that she hadn’t expected. A kiss that could only be described as untamed. And to her surprise, not unwanted. By either party. She felt his need, a desire that she’d seen in his eyes and that he was now unleashing. And despite the reason why she was trying to seduce him, her body reacted to him. Reacted as if he was a man whom she desired.

He tasted of power and strength, and she’d forgotten what a man like that tasted. His mouth was punishing, his tongue demanding surrender. She didn’t resist, couldn’t have, even if she wanted to. She responded to his kiss, sliding one hand to his nape, the other to his waist so he couldn’t escape, couldn’t change his mind now that he’d accepted the deal she was offering. She pressed her body to his, and heard him groan in response. But he didn’t free himself, instead, he pushed her back toward the wall, crushing her between it and his equally hard body.

She moaned, unable to hold in the unexpected pleasure this kiss ignited in her.

John seemed to become even more passionate as a result of her reaction, one hand now sliding down to her ass, palming it as if he had every right to do so. And he did. She’d given him that right by offering him carte blanche. By offering him her body to do with as he pleased. Though she hadn’t thought it would please her as much as it did.

All of a sudden, she felt cool air on her lips and realized he’d severed not only the kiss, but their embrace too. He stood a couple of feet away from her now. She must have been so dazed from his kiss that she hadn’t seen or felt him move.

He breathed heavily and stared at her, his eyes picking up the light from a lamp near the couch, which made them shimmer golden. There was something beautiful yet dangerous lurking in those eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out as if he could barely speak, his jaw tight as if he couldn’t open his mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She suddenly felt naked, exposed. “John…” She didn’t know what to say now, what to do, so she did nothing.

“This is wrong. I can’t do this.”

Her heart sank. He didn’t want her. Which meant he wasn’t taking her deal. He wasn’t going to help her. She slammed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing. She’d humiliated herself, and for what? For nothing. She lowered her head, couldn’t bear for him to see the despair in her eyes.

Why didn’t he leave? Why wasn’t he at the door already, hightailing it out of her flat? Was he enjoying her humiliation, her defeat?

“I can’t take what you’re offering. I’m not that kind of man. I’d never sink that low.”

“Sink that low…” she repeated. “Yeah, you’re right.”

She suddenly felt his hands grip her biceps and snapped her gaze to him.

“You misunderstand me. I would never take advantage of a woman who’s vulnerable. What I just did was a mistake, and I apologize for it. But I’m just a man, and there are moments when even I can’t fight against my needs. When even I slip. It’s not your fault. You did what you thought you had to do. It’s my fault entirely. I should have resisted.”

His fault? When she was offering herself to him? Begging him to take her? How could it be his fault?

“John, I—”

“No, please, I need to make amends.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll help you find Buffy. I’ll do anything in my power, use all my skills, my connections, my resources, whatever it takes, to bring your daughter home.” He let go of her arms and took a step back. “But I’m not going to take any form of payment from you. Not your money, and not your body. You should never have to sell your body to anybody. No matter the reason.”

Her lips parted and a surprised puff of air escaped from her lungs. Had she heard correctly? “You’ll help me? You’ll take the case?”

He nodded.

“And you don’t want…” She hesitated and searched his face.

Their gazes connected.

“I would never want what’s not freely offered. You might think now that you won’t mind sleeping with me, but you’ll resent me for it later. Trust me on that. It’s best if we never mention this again.”

Pretend their passionate embrace had never happened?

Slowly, she nodded. Her respect for him had just tripled. She knew no man who would reject her offer and still help her. Only a saint would do that. Or a eunuch. And John was neither. He’d been aroused, and his kiss had been experienced and passionate. No, John was no saint. He liked sex. He found her attractive. And still, he’d said no, while at the same time promising to help her find Buffy.

No, John was no saint. He was a man of honor and integrity. A man she could trust.